


Tangled up in Blue

by tacomuerte



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Love Triangle, Post-Tale of Two Sisters and au after that episode, Sundrop/Moonstone Bond, cassunzel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:20:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22738657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacomuerte/pseuds/tacomuerte
Summary: Every night, Rapunzel dreams in blue.
Relationships: Cassandra/Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Comments: 29
Kudos: 183





	1. Chapter 1

There is some kiss we want  
with our whole lives,  
the touch of spirit on the body.

* * *

Every night, Rapunzel dreams in blue. 

Every morning, Rapunzel pretends she’s fine.

Just fine.

Always fine.

Why wouldn’t she be fine?

There’s no reason she wouldn’t be, so she puts on a lovely dress, she braids her hair (without help from any handmaiden because the one person who she wants to help her isn’t here and probably won’t ever be here again). She looks at the lone unpainted patch of wall she has reserved, because painting over it would be admitting defeat. She’s not sure how long she stares at that gray, empty space in her mural, but eventually she shakes herself and takes a deep breath.

Rapunzel goes down to have breakfast with her loving family and loving boyfriend in the perfectly lovely garden, and she ignores the wrenching in her stomach because something… _someone_ … is missing.

She ignores the hollow feeling that grips her because she has to. Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong.

Her life is practically perfect.

What are a few imperfections such as her best friend being manipulated by a demon and also wanting to kill her? Still, it’s not like that _really_ bothers her. Much. It doesn’t matter anyway, because she’s going to get Cass back.

So maybe she’s a little bothered, but it’s trivial. Any hard feelings over one of the most important people in her life are inconsequential because she _is_ getting Cass back. The only thing that’s truly wrong is how no one seems to believe her when she tells them that she’s fine. Which she does. Repeatedly.

It’s starting to test her patience, if she’s honest.

She can see the doubt and worry in their eyes and it makes her want to scream, but that would really freak people out. 

So Rapunzel doesn’t scream. 

She smiles. She reassures them. Repeatedly. 

And after Rapunzel puts her smile in place and endures so much fussing from Eugene and her parents and the castle staff and _every single person_ who stops to talk to her this morning to the point she’s on the verge of a royal decree that the next person to ask her whether she’s okay will be summarily exiled never to return, she leaves the castle to shop for flowers because she loves flowers. Maybe if people see her decorating the castle, they’ll take the hint and leave her in peace.

Eugene trails after her to the town square, obviously unhappy, although Rapunzel is doing a great job of pretending she doesn’t notice because she’s too busy smiling and being just fine. How can he not see she feels stifled in the castle? How is it possible Eugene of all people doesn’t seem to notice that it’s just another tower, but with more rooms and far too many people silently demanding that she be an open book at all times.

Cass had always helped her slip out when it all became too much to bear.

Cass had understood.

Rapunzel feels another twist of pain in her stomach and decides she needs to focus on her flower shopping and the gorgeous morning, which will improve her mood. Of that, Rapunzel is certain.

It doesn’t work. Even here in the village square, everyone always expects her to put on her happy face instead of saying what she actually wants to say. Truthfully, it’s not that hard to do. She had years of practice with Mother, after all, and it isn’t as if everything was supposed to be different when she got out of the tower where she’d been imprisoned her entire life. 

Because it isn’t different. Not really.

No, if there’s one thing Rapunzel is certain of at this point it’s that no matter how many times she thinks she’s free, life just puts her in another tower. If it isn’t her dad placing her under house arrest for her own “safety” (and isn’t that just hilarious considering the first eighteen years of her life?), it’s a crown heavy with the fact that once it’s hers for good, she’ll never be free to live her life for herself, do what she wants to do, go where she wants to go. 

Or if it isn’t a crown, it’s destiny demanding that she live up to a thousand-year-old prophecy. 

That last one is particularly ironic considering that Rapunzel’s most tightly held dream is to travel and see the world and experience all the things she’d been denied her entire life. So sure, she had the chance to travel for a little while, but guess what? She only made it to one destination before she was right back on a throne in Corona, and the trip itself almost ended up killing her and two of the people she loves more than she knows how to put into words.

It hadn’t started that way. Rapunzel had been optimistic despite the ominous nature of the black rocks and how close they had come to destroying Corona. And it wasn’t like anyone in their traveling band of friends was that bothered about the dangers of the wilderness and the Dark Kingdom, Rapunzel included. They all thought it was a grand adventure, a lark even. None of them took it seriously, considering it with the gravity a trip through the untamed, unclaimed wilds outside Corona deserved.

Except… that wasn’t true. One person had been mindful of the risks. 

Cass had taken it seriously, even if Rapunzel hadn’t. 

Rapunzel’s stomach twists painfully again, and she swallows images of withered, burned arms and inns with rooms leading nowhere, pushing them as far down as she can to sit in the darkness where she keeps all the memories of how small and ugly and useless Mother made her feel, and it no longer matters.

Because Rapunzel is _fine_. Just… fine.

She doesn’t even have a chance to say it for the tenth time this morning before Eugene—lovely, sweet, caring, devoted Eugene—clears his throat.

“Blondie,” he begins, and Rapunzel is devastated at how clearly worried he is for her. “Something’s obviously bothering you. It’s been _days_ now.”

He pauses hopefully, and Rapunzel can feel him willing her to let him in, to share what’s upsetting her.

It didn’t used to be this way. Rapunzel shared everything with Eugene. At the start of this whole mess with her hair and the black rocks, she almost screwed up her friendship with Cass because of how the thought of keeping how her hair had come back secret from him was twisting her insides in knots. She hated keeping secrets from Eugene.

But not now. 

She used to worry and fret over Cass’ habit of keeping people at arm’s length. She used to talk to Pascal for hours at night when everyone else had gone to bed, trying to reason out some way to make Cass see that it was okay to share her feelings. Rapunzel had always believed that if you cared about someone, you were open with them.

But not now.

Rapunzel wants to believe if they were alone, she would tell him everything, but the truth is it’s been days since she returned alone and heartbroken from Mother’s cottage. Except… not quite alone. Fear has become her constant companion, whispering to Rapunzel in her blue dreams that she’s ruined everything, that she’ll never be able to reach out and feel the warmth of Cass’ hand under hers ever again. Rapunzel used to believe that if a person never gave up on a friend, they’d always find their way back, no matter what.

But not now.

She takes too long to respond, to plaster another forced smile on her face and reassure Eugene and everyone else that she’s really truly completely absolutely _fine_.

“Rapunzel,” he says, tenderly, and cups her cheek gently, and Rapunzel wants to fall apart. She wants to melt into his touch and forget everything, even Cass…

And then there’s that twisting pain in her stomach again.

“Rapunzel,” Eugene repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she whispers back, and Eugene’s face falls, his disappointment palpable.

This, Rapunzel realizes, is about to turn into something both of them will regret.

She’s saved from whatever disaster is about to happen with Eugene by the appearance of Kiera and Catalina, and it’s all she can do not to give a relieved sigh. Instead, she smiles even brighter than before.

“Hey, guys!” she exclaims. “How are you two doing?”

Rapunzel must sound off or look off or something because the two girls pull up short and give her an appraising look.

“You okay?” Kiera asks, blunt as ever.

Rapunzel feels her eye twitch. If no one ever asks her if she’s okay again, she’ll be happy.

Trying her best to remember that the girls are her friends and they’re concerned, Rapunzel answers, “I’m… fine, girls. Just… _fine_.”

“We heard you went looking for the ghost,” Catalina responds, and Rapunzel’s stomach drops.

This is the worst possible thing that could happen. There’s no way Eugene will ignore Rapunzel searching for a ghost and when he hears whose ghost…

Before Rapunzel can come up with something to defuse the situation, Eugene asks the inevitable question, “What ghost?”

Rapunzel decides that the flowers she’s been standing by deserve further attention, and hopes Eugene takes the hint. Unfortunately, the girls happily provide the answer Rapunzel has declined to give.

“The old witch,” Kiera explains. “Gothel.”

Eugene’s voice is like ice as he responds. “Rapunzel… went looking for Gothel’s ghost.”

Catalina nudges Kiera. The redhead inclines her head towards Rapunzel, and Kiera looks momentarily confused before her eyes widen in comprehension. Both girls clamp their mouths shut tight.

“Yes,” Rapunzel replies, smoothing her voice to what she feels is just the right level of nonchalance. “It was just a wax dummy in a cloak, though.”

“And you planned to tell me about this… when?” Eugene asks, and Rapunzel turns to face him.

“It was just a stupid prank,” she says, avoiding Eugene’s gaze.

“But—” Eugene begins but is silenced with a look by Rapunzel.

“It was a wax dummy, Eugene,” she says through gritted teeth. “And someone must have thought it would be a funny prank. It’s _fine_. I’m fine.”

Without waiting for a response, Rapunzel turns and snatches up flowers at random, making an impromptu bouquet. It’s not until she’s grabbed the blooms, delphinium and yellow roses, that she realizes she’s shaking.

“Aren’t these beautiful together?” she asks in a whisper, eyes watering.

Rapunzel feels a warm hand on her shoulder and she really wishes that Eugene wouldn’t be so great because it’s the last thing she wants or deserves.

“They’re perfect, aren’t they?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Eugene answers quietly. “They make a perfect pair.”

“Why would anyone separate them?” Rapunzel continues, and at this point Eugene is the only thing keeping her standing which isn’t fair to him, but she isn’t strong enough to pull away. With trembling fingers, Rapunzel caresses the delphinium. “I can’t understand it.”

Eugene pulls her into an embrace. “You’ll get her back,” he says, and the determination in his voice breaks her heart all over again. 

Rapunzel shakes her head. “No, she thinks I—” she says, sobbing too badly to continue.

Eugene guides her back to the castle and to her room, and Rapunzel has never been more grateful for anything in her life that he doesn’t press for any further explanation. When they’re back, he quickly and skillfully avoids other people as he guides her to her bedroom. Once there, he asks if she wants him to stay, but she needs time to compose herself, so he kisses her gently and tells her to rest.

It’s only when she’s alone that she realizes she’s still holding the bouquet, crushing it to her chest. She buries her face in the flowers and allows herself to grieve what she’s lost.

Rapunzel falls into a fitful, shallow sleep until something tugs at her consciousness. The sky is dark when she opens her eyes.

Cassandra stands in the window, her face a mixture of concern and resentment and confusion. 

“Raps?” she asks, voice breaking. 

Rapunzel isn’t sure if she’s dreaming again, and doesn’t really care. For the first time in a long time, she feels… more than fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to both asimaiyat and PizzaHorse for the beta-read.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for Suicidal Ideation

Seawater begs the pearl  
to break its shell.

* * *

Every night, Cassandra dreams in yellow. 

Every morning, Cassandra stares, unblinking, at the smooth stone ceiling until she can summon the will to go about her day. 

Cassandra isn’t even sure what that means any longer. All she feels is empty, and she is afraid to admit even to herself that she has no real plan for the future.

It was supposed to be different. 

_I have a purpose. I have a destiny._

Cassandra repeats this silent refrain to herself over and over and over again. Maybe one day she’ll believe it.

Her stomach roils at the lies she keeps telling herself. She tells herself it doesn’t matter. Cassandra already knows how empty it all is, and she can’t deny the truth that’s gnawing at her from the inside out.

The moonstone wasn’t her destiny to take.

She longs for the one thing she knows she can never have: someone she can share this terrible truth with. 

But there isn’t anyone. There can’t be. Her friends, her dad, Rap—

Cassandra feels sick all over again, unable to even think _her_ name, and immediately hates herself for being so weak. She takes a deep breath and forces herself to use the name, even if it’s only inside her own head. 

Rapunzel. 

Rapunzel Rapunzel Rapunzel _Rapunzel_.

There. Thinking Rapunzel’s name is more of an accomplishment than she expects of herself.

But what does it matter? All of them, including Rapunzel, already realize she’ll never actually accomplish anything worthwhile.

Too much of Cassandra’s days and nights are spent trying to ignore the mess she’s made… the mess she always makes of everything. No matter how hard she tries, the truth haunts her. When she closes her eyes, there is a short span of time before the yellow dreams take her, and she sees a procession of everyone she’s ever known, judging her and finding her wanting.

The sight that hits Cassandra hardest, even more than the disgust and revulsion painted across Rapunzel’s delicate, beautiful features, are her father’s eyes, heavy with disappointment.

He knows. Rapunzel knows. They all know.

Cassandra has always been inadequate. That truth used to fuel her, give her motivation to do more, _be_ more, in the vain hope that one day she might change that immutable fact.

Now at the apex of her power, she has nothing left to strive for, yet she knows she will still be found wanting in the end.

“Stand,” she commands herself out loud, and it’s the first word she’s spoken in at least a day, maybe longer. Probably longer. Under this constant feeling of collapsing in on herself, she’s become unsure of when she is, only noting the measure of days by looking out her tower window to see if it’s light or dark.

“Stand,” she repeats, and finally her body obeys, although standing is as far as she makes it. Cassandra remains rooted to the spot beside the stone slab she calls a bed for several minutes, and wonders when something so basic as getting out of bed became so mentally exhausting.

The cottage. That’s where everything changed, although Cassandra didn’t realize it until later. In those first few hours after she believed Rapunzel had betrayed her by shattering the mirror containing a memory which proved Mother had truly loved her, Cassandra had found her new purpose. A fury directed towards the selfish girl she had once thought of as her best friend had consumed her and focused her like nothing else since the moment she took the moonstone. Not satisfied just being the beloved princess, chosen by fate to save the world, Rapunzel couldn’t even allow Cassandra the memory of a mother who loved her, because that might mean Cassandra and the rest of the world didn’t revolve around her. Cassandra had sworn to make her regret that.

Her righteous anger hadn’t lasted. It didn’t take very long for Cassandra to begin poking holes in her own accusations. How could she ever think Rapunzel was capable of that kind of horrible deceit? The girl couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. She was kind and good and gentle and everything Cassandra could never be. Why, Cassandra wonders, did she need to find fault in Rapunzel?

The answer, she knows, lies in her own unworthiness, and no matter how much blue-black armor she layers on herself, it can’t protect her from the knowledge that the moonstone she wears isn’t hers, shouldn’t be hers, can never truly be hers.

Truth. It sits heavy on Cassandra’s shoulders, pushing down like a weight, and sometimes she can feel the air grow thin and scarce as if there’s no space for it in her lungs until she finally admits all her transgressions to Rapunzel and rips the moonstone from her own chest, handing the opal, bloody and pulsing with life, to its true master.

Cassandra reaches for the satchel, containing the mirror and its wayward shard. Before she had these two objects, Cassandra had no need to carry anything but her obsidian blade, and that fit easily into its stone scabbard. She had revelled in her independence then, her freedom from anyone and anything. Now, she feels as if this satchel and its contents are trying to drag her down,into the very earth.

Would that be so bad? 

She’s found herself asking that question more and more the past several days. She moves to the window of her room and stares out at the lush forest and thinks about the soft earth beneath the trees. She could do it, she knows. She could just have the black rocks pull her down in some unmarked spot and she and the moonstone would disappear forever. A part of herself she’s always been ashamed of lights up at the thought, finding eagerness for the first time since leaving Rapunzel to dig herself out of Mother’s underground lair.

She should do it. Wouldn’t it be peaceful, lying in a silent embrace, buried in the soft earth with the grass and trees swaying in the wind above her? There would be no more days stretching endlessly without relief. No yesterday. No tomorrow. Only peace and silence and perhaps with time Rapunzel could even find it in her heart to forgive her, despite how terribly Cassandra has wronged her.

Cassandra would laugh if she had the energy. She had thought that once she made the decision that she would feel… lighter. Instead, she just feels tired. Maybe this final act won’t be an atonement of any sort, but at least she’ll stop… feeling. That has to be enough.

With that settled, Cassandra knows what she has to do. She has to see Rapunzel one last time. Whether she’ll apologize or… actually, she has no idea what she’ll do.

What Cassandra can’t do is give her newest friend, the Enchanted Girl as she had introduced herself when they first met in place of an actual name, a chance to interfere. She’s another matter altogether. Cassandra is fairly sure she knows what and who the girl is, but she’s already disgusted with herself, and if she admits who her ally is then she’s not sure she’ll be able to bear the weight of her mistake long enough to do anything about it.

Cassandra finds the girl in the throne room. Ironically, she’s packing a satchel of her own. Cassandra has no idea what something like her needs with boomerangs and all the knickknacks the girl likes to collect like a magpie, but it’s not a question that Cassandra needs an answer to, so she dismisses it from her mind.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, her voice rough from disuse.

The girl glances up from her packing and smiles in that way Cassandra knows is part sneer, part condescension, although she’s certain the girl thinks Cassandra is stupid enough to believe it genuine. She had once, when she was desperate and flailing. That’s all been burned away, though, just as her arm had been burned away by Rapunzel and the withering incantation.

“Hello, Cassandra,” the girl says in her singsong lilt. “Nice to see you up and about.”

Cassandra ignores the barb and stands staring, waiting for an answer.

The girl sighs. “Cassandra, dear, you’ve become so… dull. I realize you only found disappointment when you tried yet again to connect with the Sundrop, but this days-long sulk of yours is very unbecoming.”

“You’re right,” Cassandra says. “I’m done moping.”

Straightening, the girl regards her with an appraising eye. “I see. What decision have you come to then? Are you finally ready to accept your destiny, or are you still insistent on crawling back to the Sundrop so you can live in her shadow?”

Cassandra scoffs at that. “You don’t have to worry. I’m ready now to do what’s necessary.”

The girl hums appreciatively. “I hate to leave you like this when you’ve finally come to your senses, but if we’re to wipe Corona from existence once and for all, you’ll need an army.”

That isn’t the case, but Cassandra doesn’t bother to correct the girl. A moderately motivated pack of street children could handle Corona’s guard without her dad’s leadership, and as far as she knows, he’s still far away from Corona; otherwise, he would have already been at the tower, trying to talk her into coming home.

“We already have the Brotherhood,” Cassandra replies. She knows if she says nothing, makes no protest, she will arouse suspicion. That’s the last thing she can afford.

“I prefer that we take no chances,” the girl says with a smile. “I will not allow overconfidence to undo our plans.”

“Fine,” Cassandra shrugs. “What’s your plan then? Mercenaries?”

The girl turns back to her packing and says, “Oh no, dear Cassandra, I’ve something much better planned. You’ll see in three days.” The girl pauses and looks at Cassandra. “You’ll… take care while I’m away, won’t you?”

“If you mean that I’ll stay here, sure. There’s nothing left for me in Corona. I know that now. I just needed… time.”

That seems to satisfy the girl. “Yes, one must grieve for losses even if those we grieve for are unworthy”

Cassandra turns away and sits on her stone throne, feeling even sicker to her stomach than before. Unbidden images of golden locks and the soft scent of perfume flood her mind, and Cassandra has to fight a painful longing rising up from deep inside to maintain a neutral expression. She doesn’t deserve Rapunzel, and she definitely doesn’t deserve this desperate need to return to her princess and plead for any small measure of forgiveness. 

Everything she’s done since the Dark Kingdom to try and prove that she is equal to Rapunzel, to justify her dismissal of the hollow need that has always threatened to devour her with every casual touch and every innocent smile and every soft embrace… 

She has done everything she can to make Rapunzel hate her. None of it has mattered. No attack seems able to force Rapunzel to hate her. Even resurrecting Mother’s tower, the place Rapunzel hates more than anything… Useless. All of it. Every action, everything she’s created is pathetic, just like she is, a hollow mockery of a better place and a better woman.

It’s going to be alright, though, Cassandra knows. She’s going to fix this permanently.

Soon enough, the girl makes her goodbyes. There’s the possibility she’s lurking somewhere near the tower to see if Cassandra is going to hold to her word, so Cassandra waits a day before leaving for Corona, taking the Shapeshifting Cloak with her. She isn’t sure if she’ll need it, but the girl had a point about overconfidence.

She takes her time, although it’s a short journey, and waits for nightfall to cross the wall into Corona proper.

Cassandra finds she doesn’t need the cloak. The guard isn’t nearly as vigilant as they should be considering the threat she poses… or posed, she should say, although they don’t know that. Regardless, she’s more than a little disappointed in whoever is standing in for her dad. 

Soon enough she’s standing outside Rapunzel’s tower. Normally, she would have snuck in through the secret tunnels, but they might expect that. Now, she thinks as she extends the rock armor on her fingers into razor-sharp claws, she has a better way into Rapunzel’s room.

The climb isn’t difficult. It’s a dark night, so she has little chance of being spotted and it only takes minutes before she’s slipping inside Rapunzel’s window.

Cassandra freezes at the sight of the princess. She’s sleeping, although uneasily, and she looks both beautiful and fragile as if she’s been ill. Cassandra’s first thought is to reach out and comfort Rapunzel, and then she feels immediately angry because the last thing she deserves is to be in Rapunzel’s presence, let alone touch her. Cassandra wonders if she should flee before the princess wakes. It might be better if she just disappeared without a trace, forever. It’s not like Rapunzel will be better off seeing her.

Closing her eyes, Cassandra calls on all the resolve she has left inside her and makes her decision. This is a bad idea. She has to leave. Rapunzel won’t forgive her, not that Cassandra deserves it.

She opens her eyes and finds it’s too late. While she’s been lost in thought, Rapunzel has stirred. 

Cursing herself and feeling so many conflicting emotions she can’t begin to sort them out, Cassandra finally meets Rapunzel’s eyes, and she sees the pain and confusion there and Cassandra’s heart is beating so fast she thinks it might burst.

“Raps?” she asks, her voice breaking, and Cassandra promises herself she won’t cry. She has to be strong for once in her life instead of the pathetic weakling she knows she is.

Before Cassandra knows what’s happening, the princess flings herself at her, embracing her tightly.

“Cass?” she asks. “It’s really you?”

Despite herself, Cassandra returns the hug. “Yeah, Raps,” she replies. “It’s me.”

Even though Rapunzel is holding her as tightly as she can, for the first time in a long time, Cassandra feels like she’s able to breathe.

It doesn’t make what she has to do any easier, but it does convince her that her plan to put an end to her constant string of failures is the right thing to do. She hopes this knowledge will give her the strength to carry through with what she has to do to make sure her princess is safe, no matter the cost to herself.


End file.
